A Bridge Of Magpies (7 page)

'Come up on deck and

show you what I mean.'

The fog bad lifted and visibility was a couple of miles. On the seaward horizon, however, lay a thick bank of it still. It was unusual because between it and the sky was a clear-cut seam of the horizon.

'That means a buster. It'll be here before you've had your run ashore.'

'I've also sailed this coast. That's simply a hangover from the morning fog. It'll be gone in an hour,'

'It means trouble – here, close inshore. A few miles out it's different, There's one weather on the coast and another at set'

He was too concerned about my welfare and it made me suspicious. I must have shown my scepticism.

'It can be blowing only a moderate breeze out to sea when a full gale tears up the channel. You won't like it if you're caught ashore. There isn't any water. You'll be stuck there until the wind drops. Besides, it's almost a full moon.'

'What's
that got
to do
with it?'
46

'It
always blows hardest at Possession at the full and change of the moon'

Ì'm learning.'

'There are always things to learn on the Sperrgebiet, Captain Weddell.'

The odd way he said it clinched my decision to ignore
his
advice.

'I'll
take my
chance. Thanks all the same , Breekbout!'

Àye, aye sir?'

`Doodenstadt. Make it snappy!

Kaptein Denny said. 'You can't land on the rocks. The best spot is to the north ... there's a bit of a beach ...'

I decided to ignore that too. Nor did I ask Kaptein Denny how he came to know where the best landing-place was on a shore where landing
was
prohibited.

Doodenstadt, when I got close enough, hadn't
a
chance of convincing me it was a lost city. No way. It was little else–outwardly at least–than an outcrop of formidable rocks of unusual shape; the 'streets' a series of gullies possibly resulting from the erosion of a thousand storms. Of course Koch's fresco was away out of sight, but I was thoroughly disenchanted.

'Keep clear!'
I
snapped at Breekbout. 'Do you want us to finish up alongside that other bloody wreck?'

`Kaptein Denny was right: no landing here,' he mumbled truculently. When
I
still hesitated about giving in, he added, '

Kaptein Denny always right'

Òkay, blast you. Back to the beach,
I
want to check the liner.'

Breekbout stayed with the boat at the little beach while
I
plunged through a tangle of alleys between the sandhills, in the general direction of the
City of Baroda.
The going opened up farther on when I struck a wide sandy watershed leading towards it.
I
followed this. It effectively masked my approach to the bow section of the wreck.

Then there were men's voices ahead. There was plenty of cover, and whoever was speaking couldn't see me coming.
I
crawled forward, making
sure my
rifle didn't make a giveaway clink. The sound gave me a clear bearing all the time but the nearer I approached the more strident the voices became – distorted, almost mechanical,

They
were
mechanical!

47

The gully narrowed and kinked and ended against a platform of rock. Sitting on this in the lee of the wreck, her back to me, was a girl. Next to her was a tape-recorder – whence the voices I'd homed in on!

48

She seemed to be having trouble with the machine, which gave out a jumble of Donald Duck noises. Maybe the distortion was caused by the tape snagging in the wind. Whatever the cause, it gave me a chance to observe without being observed. She stood up and busied herself rewinding the spool with one finger, doing it very carefully
as
if she didn't want to entrust the task to the recorder's own automatic device.

The rock on which she stood was at my eye-level. Her back remained towards me, so I couldn't see much of her face: indeed, even when she half-turned, the wind blew
her
hair from under her beret, masking her face. The hair itself was enough to stare at, though–red-gold, as if she'd been caught in a desert sunset. What little I did glimpse of her features made me certain she hadn't been out in the wind and Sperrgebiet sun for long. She was wearing a crumpled loose hip-length suede jacket, darker than the sand, and slacks, also crumpled.

I laid the rifle silently on a ledge of rock above my head, intending vaulting up after it. I paused, however, when I caught sight of various objects the girl had spread about: several very large maps weighted down with stones, a small pile of notebooks and some printed books, one of which bore a remarkable resemblance to the Admiralty
Pilot
for the Sperrgebiet. There was also a compass on top of the books which had been lined up on the wreck: I could tell this because it was one of those instruments with a mirror case, in which I spotted the reflection of the need!e.
A man
found on the Sperrgebiet with so compromising a load would have to do a lot of fast talking to a diamond patrol. As for a woman . . . I couldn't begin to guess.

She turned suddenly, and I ducked out of sight. At the same moment the tape started
up again.
She'd been so near to spotting me that I didn't try to retrieve my rifle, for fear of making a noise. It looked safe enough, however,
because
the ledge it was on was out of her sight, slightly below the 49

level of her rock.

What the tape said killed my previous intention of getting up there and and demanding what she was up to. It was German. I understand it though my spoken attempts wouldn't win me any language awards.

`Come in, Swakop,' it said.
'U-160
to dinghy. Come in Testing, testing, testing. D'ye hear me? Answer. Over.'

I slid down into a sitting position against the wall of the gully, hunching myself up in defence against the sand blowing in from above.

'Dinghy to
U-160:
Swakop speaking. Receiving you loud and clear. Do you hear me?'

'Okay. Swakop. Loud and clear. Captain asks, do you sight shore party?'

`Not yet,
U-160.
Beach not visible. Hidden by big rocks.'

How far to go?'

'Quarter-of-a-mile, maybe. Breakers and rocks to starboard. Can see the Bridge of Magpies .
Achtung!

`What is it, Swakop?'

'Beach comes in sight. Recognition flashes. One white, two red, three green. Correct. It's all clear.'

`Captain says pull finger out then. Those flashes can be spotted miles out to sea. This place is a trap. No sea room, no depth of water.'

`Swakop to
U-160.
Answered code signal, Correctly acknowledged.'

'Sure?

'Sure.'

`Captain says tell those men with
you
to keep their eyes skinned and guns ready. It could be an ambush.'

`Coming close in now,
U-160,
See a man standing on the beach.'

'Captain says, re-check that it's Tsushima. Use the code.' `

Swakop to
U-160.
It's Tsushima all right. I'm going ashore now. Wading. I'll keep in touch.'

'Are you ashore yet, Swakop?'

`No. Still in the breakers. It's bloody cold. Our own Jap
is
kicking up rough about something. Protocol, 1 think. The man on the beach must be a big shot Lots of fuss and bowing. Our man's taking a parcel from him now.'

'Where are you now, Swakop? On the beach?'

`No, Behind it. On a sandhill:

50

'Captain says, what the hell's the delay? Why don't those goddamned Japs get aboard the dinghy?'

'Our
Jap's wading out first with the parcel. Looks as if he's going to go back for Tsushima.–maybe he's too important to get his feet wet?

'By God he is! Captain says–Gott
in Himmel!
There's a ship and it's firing at us . . .!'

Hydrophone operator to Captain: HE bearing red o-five-o!

Propeller noises!'

'Periscope lookout to Captain: Distant mastheads bearing red o-five-o!'

'Number One to Captain: Captain on the bridge, sir!

A
big ship entering the channel from the north-west!'

'Captain here. Lookout, what sort of ship? .Warship? I can't make her out from down here on the bridge.'

'In
Armed merchant cruiser. A big one,
Herr Oberleut'
nant'

'Number One, get that periscope down with the bo'sun's chair and the look out! Quick!'

'Aye aye sir!'

'Captain to hydrophone operator: enemy's course, speed, distance?'

'Steering 120 degrees, sir, south-east by east–Sir! AMC is coming round on to a new course . . . one-one-o degrees .

. . coming round still . . . o-nine-o, steady on o-nine-o, now heading due east, across our bows . •

'Speed?
Schnell, man!'

'Twelve knots – weeding up?

'She'll run herself ashore if she holds that course, Number One. Do you see her yet?'

'No, sir.'

'Damn this night sight! It's no bloody use at all!'

'I'd say she's manoeuvring for the mouth of the channel over towards Elizabeth Bay, sir. There's about four miles between us. When she picks up the ten-fathom line, I reckon she'll turn and steer right down the middle?

'And slap into us! Stand by! Action stations!'

'Aye aye sir! She's starting to come round again ... turning . . . turning . . . steady on course one-eight-o true . . increasing speed . . . fourteen knots now ..

distance?'

'Three and
a
half miles,
sir'

51

`Captain to control room: Group down, slow ahead together, port fifteen!'

`Control room to Captain: Port fifteen it
is,
sir. Slow ahead together.'

`Helm steady amidships, sir!'

'Stand by to dear the bridge–what is it, Number One?' `

Shore party dinghy right astern, sir.'

`Belay that order. Stand by. Get those men aboard. Captain to control room: Stop engines! Slow astern both! Are all the men there, Number One?'

'All ours, sir. There's only one Jap though. Swakop got ashore all right.'

Get 'em aboard, quick! This is going to be a bloody difficult shot. I can't let her come too close or we'll blow ourselves up at the same time. I want the conning-tower just awash–understood? Just deep enough to be out of sight. Channel's too shallow for a submerged attack. Clear the bridge! Clear the casing!'

Àye aye, sir !'

`Captain speaking from control-room now. Conning-tower clear, Number One?'

`Conning-tower clear, sir. Hatch secured.'

'It's the Jap, sir. He's pretty upset about something. Can't 1 `

Good. Start the attack. Who's that talking? Silence!'

understand what he's saying.'

`Tell him to shut up.
We're in
action.'

`Very good, sir.'

Ènemy
masts in
sight now,'

Ùp periscope a bit more, sir?'

I

`No. Hold it. We mustn't be spotted. Their bloody radar's like magic. She's a big one, every bit of ten thousand tons. She's taking a hell of a chance in this shallow channel. What's her speed, Number One?'

'Plot reports fifteen knots-sin,'

`Stand by, torpedo tubes!'

Àll tubes ready, sir?

`Fire on HE bearings, sir?

`No. Visual. Port five. Easy
now,
What's her DA angle?' I

`Very fine, sir, Very tricky shot.'

'A quadruple spread should fix her. Flood tubes, open bow doors!'

Tubes flooded, bow doors open, sir!

52

'Permission to fire, sir?'

'No. Hold it. When she comes opposite the settlement, that's the best place. Slow ahead, Chief, SLOW! Don't let her go! Target's only thirteen hundred metres!'

'Fire now, sir?'

'Hold
it,
hold it!'

'Now, sir? Fire?'

'Tube One, fire!'

'Tube
Two, firer

'Rohr drei, llosss!'

'Rohr vier, Hone

'All torpedoes running, sir!'

'Coxswain, the time please!'

'Zero minus three, sir!'

'All torpedoes running, sir!'

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten! . :

'Coxswain?'

'Any moment now, sir ..

'Torpedoes running . .

'Christ, one and two have missed!'

'Hydrophone operator reports three and four still running, sir . .

'Donnenvetter!
Hear that, Number One! A hit!
Gut!'
'

Hydrophone operator reports two torpedo explosions . . 'Got her-Number One! Two–right between the tits!' '

Breaking-up noises from AMC, sir. HE bearing . 'She'

s coming straight for us, sir!'

'Down periscope. Engines full ahead together, port fifteen, steer two-nine-o. She's trying to ram us!'

'No, sir! She's running ashore!'

'We'll have to cut right scrims her bows–on the surface, too. God, for some bloody deep water! What's the depth now?' '

Eleven fathoms, shallowing, sir!'

'Sir, sir! Hydrophone operator here! New propeller noises. Outer channel. Green o-three-o. Closing fast. Warship!' '

Where the devil's he sprung from, Number One?'

'Coming into the main channel, sir, between Possession and the Kreuz shoals.'

'There's barely four to six fathoms there! He must be mad!'

'Or very brave.'

53

'Range, speed, operator?'

`Mile and a half, sir. Twenty-two knots,'

`Give me a bearing for the AMC now, too, I want to see what she's up to.'

`Close, sir. Maybe half a mile. Slowing all the time.' 'Sq would anyone be with two torpedoes in their guts.' 'She's still holding to the channel, sir. But coming at us.' Ùp periscope! Destroyer fires a starshell. No, she's a frigate, Number One. She's made it, too, through that short cut! Into the channel now;

'Orders, sir?'

'Stand by, stem torpedo tubes!'

'Achtung!'

`Set 'em both very shallow–twelve to fifteen feet. Bring the stern to bear, Number One,'

Àye aye-sit'